


The Way It Is

by wook77



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Origins: Wolverine (2009)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:06:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wook77/pseuds/wook77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bradley has doubts. Zero has no humanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way It Is

**Author's Note:**

> Written years ago and posted [here](http://wook77.livejournal.com/236664.html). This fic is canon compliant with X-Men Origins: Wolverine. I've taken a few liberties with comicsverse background with the relationship between Bolt and Agent Zero but you don't need to have comicsverse knowledge to understand the fic. 
> 
> Betaed by why_me_why_not and elanorofcastile.

Bradley can't remember what it was that got him to sign up for Stryker's team. All he knows is that when he wakes up with the worst hangover of his life, he's a member of some special ops team with a bunch of other mutants. It's probably something to do with the way that he follows David into everything. David leads, Bradley follows. That's just the way it is. 

So when David leads them into Lagos, into something that Bradley can't understand or reconcile in his head, David's at a loss for the first time in years. David's never steered him wrong before but now, now that he's 'Zero' and not David to the world at large, now they're going wrong. 

He can't help but voice his concerns when they've finally returned from Africa. 

"What did you get me into, David?" Bradley asks as he concentrates on his gun, methodically taking it apart and then cleaning each piece. 

"You don't like it? You can leave," Zero responds as he takes his own guns apart and starts cleaning them. 

"You want me to leave?" Bradley turns his head quickly, surprised and hurt at the casual dismissal of their time together. 

"I'm saying that if you don't like what we're doing here, you can leave." 

Bradley looks to his gun, all the pieces scattered across the table as if he'd actually used it tonight when, in reality, he'd barely aimed before Logan had stopped Creed. Had stopped all of them from slaughtering that village. 

"I don't want to leave," he finally says after a long, drawn out pause that's more telling than his words. 

The lightning fast grin that spreads across David's face reassures Bradley that he's made the right decision even if he hasn't, not really. He's not one for murder. He likes people, likes to play with their toys and make them run. He doesn't mind killing the ones that deserve it, but he gets to decide which ones deserve it. It used to be that _they_ would decide which ones deserved it. Not Stryker. Not Creed. Certainly not Wade. 

They had a sense of honor, of discipline, of right from wrong. 

"You about done there?" Zero says as he puts his guns on the table on his side of the bed. Bradley looks down at his and realizes that, by rote, he'd finished cleaning his gun and put it back together while he'd been reflecting on the trip to Lagos. 

"Yeah, about," he says. "Just have to…" 

His words drift off as Zero turns, slides his hands across his vest and slowly opens it before undoing the buttons on his shirt, one slowly after another slowly after another. Each inch of that flesh, tanned where his is so pale, smooth and unmarked where his is freckled, draws him in. 

His worries and concerns over their path disappear just as quickly as David's clothes do. Each inch revealed means one less worry. By the time the shirt comes off and then the jeans slide down those narrow hips to pool at David's feet, Bradley can't remember that they'd been in Lagos just a few short hours ago. Instead, he sets the gun on the table and then stands before walking over to David and touching him, hands light on his upper arms. The biceps ripple under his hands. David can move fast when he wants – he's far better at killing than Bradley ever could be - and nothing reinforces that like when Bradley has his hands on David's arms. 

"David," he mutters as he leans in, kissing the side of David's mouth. He's the only one that calls David by his given name. Everyone else uses 'Zero' whether they knew David before the Team X program or not. 

"Bolt," David murmurs back and, before Bradley can protest the use of his code name instead of his given name, David's lips are on his, kissing him and sucking those worries away with flesh and softness. Bradley leans in to the kiss, letting David do as he wishes, touch him, push him, prod him, maneuver him, shirtless and wanting towards the bed. David's hands on his waist, tugging his belt free of his waistband and then grabbing his hands and securing them over his head with it, turns him on even further. Getting rougher now, David pulls his jeans down his hips and off. 

"No boxers?" David looks at him and grins that devil's grin, sucking him into the moment even further. 

"Didn't have time to find them this morning, remember?" Bradley cocks an eyebrow as he thrusts his hips upwards towards David's teasing. "Fucking touch me." 

"Aren't you a demanding bitch?" David says with a sneer and, for a moment, Bradley wonders how much is tease and how much is insult but even that's sucked out of his head as David sucks his dick into that decadent mouth. The feel of the wet heat surrounding him has him bucking up, fucking David's mouth until David slaps his hip and then holds him to the bed. 

Bradley loves moments like this, loves when David uses his preternatural speed, agility and strength to hold him down and fuck him. Bradley welcomes it because it makes him feel so much more than the tender times. He needs this more than drugs or alcohol. In fact, this sort of fucking is the _only_ thing he needs more than alcohol. 

David suddenly pulls off his dick and flips him over, roughly shoving two fingers into his ass with little preparation. Bradley finds himself with his face in the pillow and David's arm holding the back of his neck so that he can't breathe, can't do anything but panic as dick replaces fingers at his hole. 

It's one of those nights, then. David knows him better than he knows himself because he needs this. The lights flare in the apartment they share on the small, supposedly-closed military base where Team X stays when they're not traveling. The lights flare even more as David finishes entering him and then pulls back before thrusting once more. 

The pain anchors him, makes him remember that David controls everything and that he's happy enough to have David controlling everything. It's exactly what he needs after the doubts of earlier. This is David's way of reassuring him, as far as Bradley is concerned. 

David's hand touches his hip, a small spot of tenderness in the midst of this rough fucking. It almost breaks him, that gentle touch of soft fingertips against his freckled flesh. His cock's harder than it's ever been lately. He needs David's hands on his cock and, with the little bit of air left in his lungs, he says, "Fucking touch me." 

Those questing fingers obey, touching his cock and pulling in time to the rough thrusts. It only takes a few before he comes, his entire body clenching and then relaxing with the release. David's continued thrusts are too much for him; he wants to pull away because it hurts, it fucking well _hurts_ now. By the time he can summon the energy to struggle, David's coming. 

There was a time, after fucking like this, that David would pull them both to the mattress and embrace him, surround him with warmth and love, reassure him and pet him as they both come down from the high. Now, though, David pulls away almost as soon as he's done coming and then leaves to get a rag, cleaning both of them up as quickly and efficiently as possible. "You're bleeding." 

"You just fucked me raw, what do you expect?" Bradley responds, a bite in his voice. 

"Nothing. I expect nothing of you." Bradley waits for David to join him but David walks away, back to his guns, where Bradley can hear him dismantling them and cleaning them once more. "Get some sleep. Stryker wants us in early tomorrow morning." 

"All right." Bradley rolls over and sleeps just as he's been commanded. 

It takes him months to summon the courage to walk away from Team X. When he finally does, David watches him go, oversized duffle on his shoulder as he carries everything he owns away from the only life he's known for five years. David doesn't say anything and Bradley can't think of anything to say. 

It's later, when Victor is staring at him and the knowledge of his upcoming death is sweeping through him that he wonders about that stare. After Victor guts him, as he feels his blood pouring down his skin, he hears Victor murmur, "Zero sends his regards."


End file.
